Stormy Beginnings
by Jackie Donovan
Summary: Right after TM. Rick's past complicates his future.
1. Just a Phase

Just a Phase  
  
  
  
(Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. I am just temporarily, shamelessly and illegally borrowing them. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so please don't sue me.)  
  
  
  
He had money. Lots of money. Rick O'Connell had more money than he had ever dreamed of. More money than he knew what to do with. He could pay off all of his old debts and live a free man. He could create a whole new life for himself—do anything he wanted, go anywhere he wanted. The problem was the only place he wanted to be was within arm's reach of Miss. Evelyn Carnahan. It was more of an obsession than a problem, really. And it seemed to be reciprocated. So what was the problem? The problem was Evelyn was a "nice" girl. Rick had never spent much time with one of them before and wasn't entirely sure how to deal with her.  
  
There were things you just couldn't do with nice girls; things that Rick wanted very badly to do with Evelyn. Not doing those things was something he had never had to do with the kind of girls he had experience with. He had dealt with this problem by regressing into the demeanor of a fourteen- year-old boy whenever he was around her. He never called on her without bringing a gift—either flowers or candy. He become tongue-tied around her and tended to blush a lot. So far, she responded well to such behavior, so there really was no problem at all. Tonight he was bringing two gifts: a bunch of flowers and a tiny box with a diamond ring in it. If he could get the words out, Rick was going to ask Evelyn to marry him.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
"No! No! Get out of here with that thing!" cried Evelyn. "That is disgusting!"  
  
Cleo, her white cat, had brought her another mouse. It was the third today. Satisfied that her gift had been received and appreciated, Cleo leapt out the window to fetch another.  
  
"No! Don't leave that thing in here!" called Evelyn. No use. The cat was gone and a wet, dead mouse lay at her feet.  
  
"Salla…" The Egyptian maid was missing. She had been completely useless today anyway. She brought Evelyn's tea cold this morning and the toast was burnt around the edges. When they went shopping that afternoon, Salla had been very uncooperative when Evelyn had needed her to help argue with the proprietor of the dress shop who was clearly insane if he thought that he could bamboozle an Englishwoman by charging linen prices for what was obviously a cotton – an inferior grade of cotton at that – skirt.  
  
"Jonathan…" He wasn't here—probably out trying to spend all of his money, the fool. Jonathan had not had the decency to wait for her to join him for lunch today even though she was only half an hour late and the lamb kebabs were appallingly underdone when they arrived.  
  
And now this damned dead mouse was on her carpet. Evelyn took a pair of ice tongs – what use did she have of ice tongs in this fort where the help couldn't even make a hot cup of tea? – And gingerly picked the mouse up by its tail. It wasn't dead. The mouse wriggled, Evy squealed and flung it toward the window. It smacked against the wall with a sickening splat, stuck there for a moment then fell to the floor. Now it was dead.  
  
"Ooooooooh," Evelyn huffed. She stalked over to the mouse, picked it up again with the tongs and flung it out the window… tongs included. She looked out the window just in time to see a small boy pick the tongs up and run away with them. "You there!" she called. "Bring those back this instant!" He didn't obey. He didn't even laugh. He just ran away.  
  
Evelyn slammed the window shutters closed. "See if you get another mouse in here, you horrible cat," she muttered.  
  
It was getting late and Rick would be here soon. He was taking her out for dinner and dancing for the third time this week. Dancing. That meant he would touch her, hold her. She liked that, but today she felt fat. That is why she had wanted to buy a new outfit this afternoon. Nothing seemed to fit this morning and she wanted to look and feel pretty tonight. Rick would stare at her so intently with those blue eyes that she felt he was looking directly into her soul. Sometimes she felt as if she would disappear into a cloud when he looked at her like that. Other times she felt he would see every flaw and run screaming away, never to come back. That is how she felt right now. Maybe she should just cancel tonight. No. If she did, he might think she didn't like him and not come back. That thought was unbearable. She had to go. She had to look good. Evelyn went into her closet and began a frantic search for something to wear.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Rick stopped at the fort's bar for a drink to fortify himself before going to Evelyn's quarters. He ordered a whiskey. When it arrived the thought occurred to him that being a nice girl, Evelyn might not like it if he smelled like liquor. He hesitated. No. He had seen her down nearly half a bottle of Glen Livet a week ago in Hamunaptra. He downed the shot and smiled at the memory. Evelyn was a happy drunk. She'd almost kissed him that night. They had done a fair amount of kissing in the past few days, and he expected more tonight. But as she was a nice girl, that would be all. A nice girl. Was he really involved with a nice girl? Apparently so. Since Evelyn was a nice girl there would nothing much more than kissing, at least until their wedding night. The sooner he asked her the sooner that night would arrive. He paid for his drink and left the bar.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
She was a cow. An absolute cow. Evelyn sneered at herself in the mirror and turned, trying to figure out from which angle she looked less bovine. There wasn't one. She had had to dig in the back of her closet for her fat dress. At least it was comfortable.  
  
And her hair—horrid. She was usually proud of her thick, curly hair but tonight she could not get it to cooperate at all. Loose, it looked like she'd been caught in a windstorm. She tried a bun but there were so many frizzies that hung out that from a distance it looked as if she had a cloud of gnats swarming about her. For a few minutes Evelyn though about cutting it all off into a bob. That was how many fashionable women wore their hair these days. She'd even taken out her scissors and poised to cut… but that would be like cutting off an arm or a leg. And besides, Rick had mentioned liking her hair just as it was. She put the scissors away and settled for tying her hair back with a ribbon, but the ribbon was a couple of shades off from her dress and she knew it looked ridiculous. The pink ribbon did exactly match the spot that had popped up smack in the middle of her forehead, so she wasn't entirely uncoordinated.  
  
She looked at the clock. It was a couple of minutes before seven. Rick was supposed to be here at seven. Yesterday he had been fifteen minutes late. How inconsiderate! She had things to do. Didn't he know that? Did he think that she just sat around looking pretty waiting for him to come around whenever he felt like it? She had a job, she had friends, she had interests other than looking pretty for some American who just strolled in fifteen minutes late and expected her to jump for joy.  
  
"I can't go out looking like this," Evelyn said to herself in the mirror. She had fifteen minutes. She reached back and untied the ribbon. There was a knock at her door. The nerve! It wasn't seven yet! "Just a minute!" she called. Evelyn hastily tied the ribbon back—it came out lopsided. There was another knock. What a bother he was! "I said just a minute," she called again. There was no use. She looked like a cow anyway. What difference did a lopsided, unmatched ribbon make anyway?  
  
She went to the door and opened it. Rick stood there with that stupid grin on his face and a bunch of weedy flowers.  
  
"Hi," he said. "You look beautiful."  
  
"I don't…" Evelyn protested.  
  
"You do," Rick said. He held out the flowers. She didn't take them. Evelyn turned and stepped back into the room. She didn't invite him in but he followed anyway. "You look very beautiful tonight."  
  
Evelyn stood with her back to him. "And what, exactly is that supposed to mean?" she asked.  
  
Rick was perplexed. What had he said? "It means that you look beautiful tonight…"  
  
She turned. "Tonight? You mean as opposed to some other night?"  
  
"No… you look beautiful every night," he said, and hastily added, "And every day." Evelyn glared at him. Apparently he hadn't been hasty enough. Not knowing what else to do, Rick held the flowers out to her. "These are for you."  
  
"You're lying," she declared.  
  
"No," Rick said. "They really are for you."  
  
Evelyn took the flowers and crossed the room to put them in a vase. "You're lying about me being beautiful every night and every day."  
  
He wasn't. "I'm not," he protested. He had seen her in many different states the past few weeks including soaking wet, first thing in the morning and after a long camel ride through the desert and she had looked beautiful in every one of them.  
  
Evelyn poured water from a pitcher into the flower vase. "Do you have any idea how much pressure it puts on a girl to look pretty all of the time? How much work it takes?" she asked him.  
  
"No," he said. Something had gone terribly wrong and he had no idea what. "For a girl like you it shouldn't take much time at all…" he attempted.  
  
"Really?" Evelyn turned around. The pitcher of water was still in her hand. "For a girl like me?"  
  
This wasn't getting any better, Rick thought.  
  
"And what exact kind of girl am I," Evelyn asked.  
  
"One who's beautiful every night and every day," Rick grinned. "Even when she's angry."  
  
She slammed the pitcher on the table. At least she didn't throw it. She'd thought about it, but remembered what had happened the last time she threw something at him. "Don't patronize me and don't try to weasel your way out of this with compliments," she refuted. "You come here, late one night, early the next, and expect me to be beautiful and don't care or even have any idea what it takes and how hard I try…"  
  
"I can't believe you try very hard…" said Rick.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I mean I don't believe you have to try very hard."  
  
Evelyn started to cry. "Well, I do. I do have to try and when I don't this is what I look like." She turned away and put her hands over her face.  
  
Rick didn't know what to do. He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away. "If this is as bad as you can look, then… bad is beautiful on you." He knew that hadn't made sense, and that he was going to pay for it.  
  
"So you admit that I look bad?" Evelyn sniffed.  
  
"No, I've seen you look a lot worse," Rick said and then winced. Why don't I just cut out my tongue? He thought.  
  
"You horrible man!" Evelyn cried. "Go! Go away. I won't go out with you tonight. I won't go out with you any night!" She ran into her bedroom and slammed the doors shut.  
  
Rick had no idea what had happened. The ring in its little box felt like a lead weight in his pocket. He could hear her crying inside her bedroom. He thought about knocking on her door but when he raised his fist to knock, her crying grew louder as if she knew he was going to. Maybe it wasn't a good idea after all. Maybe the ring wasn't a good idea either. Rick left Evelyn's quarters and headed back to the bar.  
  
In her room, Evelyn heard the front door slam shut. What did he think he was doing? Had the man no sense of decency at all? Her bedroom door wasn't locked. He was supposed to force his way in, take her in his arms, comfort her, kiss away her tears and make wild, passionate love to her. Well, she would, of course, have to stop him, but he was supposed to try, anyway. Where was he going? She must really look awful tonight.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
From his seat facing the doorway, Jonathan saw O'Connell enter the bar. The American had, as predicted, remained in Cairo since their return from Hamunaptra, and spent most of his time sniffing around Jonathan's baby sister. Jonathan sighed. He knew someone would notice her eventually. Evy was a pretty girl, though for a long time she hid it well, keeping her nose buried in books and dusty artifacts at the museum. Though she seemed bookish on the outside, Evy could be a real handful. Battling resurrected mummies was one thing; taking on a willful woman was another. This tall American chap seemed to have what it takes to handle both. O'Connell had proved that a week ago.  
  
Rick took a seat next to Jonathan. He seemed upset. Jonathan offered him a drink. Rick just nodded. A terrible thought occurred. "You haven't been to see Evy, have you?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"Is it that obvious?" Rick replied.  
  
"Ah," said Jonathan. "I tried to find you to warn you this afternoon."  
  
Rick threw back his drink. "Warn me about what?"  
  
"It's the twelfth," said Jonathan.  
  
"The twelfth what?" asked Rick. Did every Carnahan talk in riddles?  
  
"The twelfth of the month, old man," Jonathan replied. "If you are going to spend time around my sister, you need to keep a calendar."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why? Why indeed," said Jonathan. "Do you know nothing about women?"  
  
"They all go insane on the twelfth?" asked Rick.  
  
"Not just the twelfth," Jonathan said. "Next month it will be around the ninth, after that the fifth…" Rick stared at him blankly. "They cycle, man. You don't know that? Just like the phases of the moon."  
  
"Oh," said Rick. "Yes, of course, I know about that." In theory. Rick had spent a great deal of what he liked to think of as quality time with a fairly large number of women and he knew something of their anatomy and their inner workings. He had just not spent enough time with any particular woman to have experienced the monthly mood swings that were said to accompany them. So that was what was wrong with Evelyn. What a relief! Now that he knew what was wrong, he could fix it. "So, what should I do…?"  
  
"Run," said Jonathan.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Run," he said. "Hide. Evy's here, she's coming this way. I'll cover for you."  
  
Rick didn't need to be told twice. He ducked into the men's room.  
  
Evelyn hadn't seen him. However, she has seen Jonathan and made a bee-line for him. Jonathan tossed back another drink as she approached. "Hello, baby sis.."  
  
"Have you seen Rick?" she interrupted.  
  
"No, I have not. Sit down. Have a drink."  
  
"We were supposed to go out tonight." Evelyn smoothed back her hair. She looked a bit mussed up. "I think he's upset with me," she said, worried.  
  
"Well, I'm sure he won't be for long…" offered Jonathan.  
  
"He bloody well better not be since this whole thing is his fault," said Evelyn.  
  
"I'm sure it was and I'll be sure to tell him that if I see him."  
  
"Don't you dare!" she hissed. "You just stay out of this, Jonathan. If you do anything to mess things up…"  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it. You are doing fine on your own."  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Evelyn, horrified. "You lied to me! You did see him! He told you he hates me, didn't he?" She burst out crying and buried her face in her brother's shoulder.  
  
Hardly a stranger to scenes with women in bars, Jonathan knew just what to do. He patted her back and said, "There, there. Nothing of the sort. I haven't seen him at all and I'm sure he doesn't hate you. Who could hate a lovely creature such as yourself? You wouldn't want him to see you like this, so why don't you go back to your room, have a nice cup of tea and a good nights sleep and things will be better in the morning."  
  
Evelyn stood up and glared at her brother. "Oh, will it?" she said. "Really? Is that all it will take? A nice cup of tea and a night's sleep? Do you have any more pearls of wisdom for me, my dear, drunken brother?"  
  
"Rick is in the men's room and will be out any minute," Jonathan replied.  
  
Evelyn ran out the door and back to her quarters, this time locking the door.  
  
Jonathan poured another drink for himself and one for Rick. Rick cautiously stuck his head out of the men's room. "All clear," called Jonathan.  
  
"Thanks," said Rick. He took a seat next to Jonathan and picked up his glass. "When will it be safe?" he asked.  
  
"Two days," answered Jonathan authoritatively. "Three at the most."  
  
"Can I trust you with a secret?"  
  
"You can trust me," said Jonathan.  
  
Rick hesitated. "I'll tell you anyway," he said. Someone was going to see that ring tonight. He took out the tiny box, opened it and set it on the bar in front of Jonathan who choked on his drink.  
  
"Is that what I think it is?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"If you think it's an engagement ring for your sister, yes," replied Rick.  
  
Jonathan was appalled. He stood up. "I say!" he said. "I say! You have an awful lot of nerve! You've only known my baby sister for a few weeks and you plan to give her that! What are your intentions, sir?"  
  
Rick was surprised at Jonathan's reaction. "To marry your sister," he answered.  
  
"You want to marry my sister?" sputtered Jonathan. "You were going to ask my sister, my baby sister, who you've only know for a few weeks, to marry you with out asking me for her hand first? What kind of barbarian are you? Have you no decency?"  
  
Rick hadn't thought of that. Evelyn was a nice girl from a nice family. Of course he was supposed to ask the head of the family for permission to marry her. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," he told Jonathan. "Jonathan Carnahan, may I have your permission to marry your sister?"  
  
Jonathan sat back down but he wasn't going to be that easily appeased. "Well, I don't know," he said. "You seem like a decent fellow, but you are an American and well… what are your intentions for the future? What will you do? Where will you live?"  
  
The future? Rick didn't know. He hadn't seriously planned anything further than the wedding night. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "What I do know is that I love your sister and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. What we'll do we'll decide together. If she'll have me."  
  
Jonathan knew it wasn't as if he had to worry that O'Connell was after the family money since the three of them had split the treasure from Hamunaptra and each had more than they could ever spend. He knew the American was sincere. He had risked his life to save Evy; he had fought a dozen resurrected mummies for her. He was a good man that would love and take care of her. "Alright," he said. "You may marry my sister—if she will have you. I warn you though—if you ever do anything to hurt her…  
  
"I won't..." said Rick.  
  
"If you do," continued Jonathan with all seriousness, "I have enough money to pay someone to do some very unpleasant things to you."  
  
"I understand," said Rick. He offered Jonathan his hand. Jonathan took it and pulled Rick in for a quick embrace.  
  
"I've always wanted a brother…" Jonathan said.  
  
"Me too," said Rick. He stood up and put the ring box back in his pocket. "How do I look?"  
  
"Fine," said Jonathan.  
  
"Well," said Rick. "I think I'm going upstairs to get engaged…"  
  
"Sit down, you fool," directed Jonathan. "Have you paid no attention to anything I've said? Wait until Tuesday, at least."  
  
Rick sat back down.  
  
"Bartender," called Jonathan. "Another bottle for my brother and me." 


	2. Complications

Complications  
  
  
  
Tuesday had arrived. At Jonathan's urging, Rick had stayed away from Evelyn for three days. Tonight was the night. He was more certain than ever that he wanted to marry her. Three days of not being able to look into those huge hazel eyes, touch that silky dark hair and taste her luscious lips… tonight was the night. He checked his pocket for the ring for the eighth time. Still there. It was a quarter to seven. He didn't want to be late, or early. Rick lurked at the foot of the stairs and watched the clock tick the minutes by.  
  
"I don't see why I should be here…" said Jonathan.  
  
"Because I asked you to," replied Evelyn. She was gazing into the mirror in her bedroom, trying to decide whether to leave her hair up or down. "Up or down?" she called to Jonathan.  
  
"Up," he said.  
  
Definitely down, decided Evelyn. "The ebony earrings or the amber?"  
  
"Ebony," answered Jonathan.  
  
Amber it is. Finished. She looked nice, she thought. Not nice-- beautiful. Dare she think it? Yes. Why not? Beautiful. Evelyn looked at the clock. Not quite seven yet. Maybe he'd be early this time. She couldn't wait.  
  
"You look beautiful," confirmed Jonathan from the doorway. "Now I'm leaving." He knew what Rick had planned for tonight and it was not something for a party of three.  
  
"No, please. I want you to stay," protested Evelyn. "For the first few minutes, stay." She was a little apprehensive about seeing Rick after how horribly she had treated him a few days ago. When he had called and asked her to go out with him tonight, she was so happy that she had nearly cried. It had been three whole days since she had seen him. She wanted Jonathan here for moral support, and his presence would prevent her from jumping on Rick and mauling him the moment he walked in the room. Probably.  
  
"All right," Jonathan said. "Anything for my baby sister. Did I mention that you look beautiful?"  
  
She blushed and went to hug him. "Thank you," she said.  
  
"Careful, careful," he warned. "Don't muss your dress."  
  
"Don't worry. This dress is unmussable," she smiled.  
  
"Oh, God. Please don't tell my why you feel the need to wear an unmussable dress..."  
  
Evelyn playfully slapped her brother. "I'm not that kind of girl."  
  
"And I've often wondered about that, it's rather amazing with a brother like me…"  
  
A knock sounded at the door. Evelyn froze. "He's here. What do I do?"  
  
"Open the door and let him in?" suggested Jonathan.  
  
"You do it," she said.  
  
Jonathan stepped toward the door.  
  
"No!" cried Evelyn. "I'll do it."  
  
Jonathan stopped.  
  
"Get it!" said Evelyn. "No, wait. Sit down. Look busy… no! Stand… hide?"  
  
Jonathan went to the door. "Snap out of it, girl. Try to look casual." Evelyn posed next to the table with one hand at her neck and the other on the back of a chair. "That'll do," said Jonathan, and he opened the door.  
  
Rick stood outside with his typical goofy grin and a bunch of flowers. His grin faded. "Jonathan…" he said.  
  
"Come in," Jonathan told him, then silently mouthed the words "I'm out in just a minute…"  
  
"Hello," said Evelyn.  
  
"Hello," said Rick. He slipped past Jonathan and walked up to her. "These are for you," he offered the flowers.  
  
"Thank you. They're lovely," Evelyn said, then remembered to take them. She and Rick just stared at each other.  
  
Jonathan broke the silence. "Yes, yes, lovely." He walked to Evelyn and reached for the flowers. "I'll just put them in water and be off, then." Evelyn held on to the flowers. She wanted to have something between herself and Rick. "Let go," said Jonathan. He wrestled them from her grip and disappeared into the bedroom.  
  
"The flowers are lovely," said Evelyn.  
  
"Thank you. They are for you," replied Rick.  
  
"Thank you," she said. She still had her hand on the back of the chair. "Would you like to sit down?" she offered.  
  
"Thank you, I would," said Rick. He sat in the chair. Evelyn stood behind it. She felt a jolt of electricity when his back touched her hand and she pulled it away.  
  
"So…" they said simultaneously.  
  
"You go…" said Rick.  
  
"No, you," said Evelyn.  
  
"Would you like a seat?" he offered.  
  
"Thank you, I would," she replied. He stood up and offered the seat he had just been in. She took it. It was warm. She grew warm knowing the warmth came from him. "Would you like another seat?" Evelyn asked.  
  
"Yes," said Rick.  
  
"There's one there…" she gestured to the other side of the table.  
  
"I see," said Rick. "I'll just take it…" he sat down. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome," she replied.  
  
Oh, pleeese, thought Jonathan. He was lurking in the bedroom, listening. Maybe they're like this because I'm here… I need to get out so they can talk and I don't throw up. Putting on a cheery face, he strode purposely into the room with the flowers in a vase, put them down on the table and made for the door. Evy caught his hand in an iron grip, but said nothing. Jonathan stood behind her chair. Rick looked at him. Jonathan looked helplessly back and shrugged. "Nice weather we've been having lately…" he offered.  
  
"Oh yes, lovely," added Evelyn.  
  
"It's been nice," said Rick.  
  
"I'm sure it's nicer out there under the stars…" Jonathan prompted.  
  
"Oh, yes. Stars are lovely," said Evelyn.  
  
"Yes. I like stars…" said Rick.  
  
"Well, then. Why don't you two go out and walk amongst them?" Jonathan suggested. Evelyn squeezed his hand until it hurt.  
  
"I am so very sorry…" she said.  
  
"Then let go…" grimaced Jonathan.  
  
Evelyn continued speaking to Rick. "I was very rude to you the other day."  
  
"I didn't notice," said Rick.  
  
"You didn't?"  
  
"No. How could I notice you being rude when I can't see anything besides how beautiful you are?" Rick told her.  
  
"Oh, Rick…" Evelyn breathed.  
  
"That's quite enough." Jonathan said. He shook his hand out of Evelyn's grasp. "I'm leaving. Have a good night."  
  
Rick slid out of his chair and onto one knee. He took Evelyn's hand in his. "There is something I want to ask you…" he began.  
  
"NO!" blurted Jonathan. "I'm leaving! I'm leaving now. Just wait!"  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
"I'll just get that and talk to them in the hall and then leave," Jonathan said. He opened the door. Colonel Matthews, the man in charge of Fort Brydon stood there with two American officers. "Hello," said Jonathan. Rick and Evelyn looked at them.  
  
Colonel Matthews did not look happy. "I'm sorry to have to do this, Mr. Carnahan, but these men believe that there is a Benjamin Reese here."  
  
"Well, there isn't," said Jonathan.  
  
"That's him," said one of the Americans. He pointed at Rick. The two American officers entered the room and approached Rick who was now staring at the floor.  
  
"Just a minute! You can't just barge in here like this!" protested Evelyn, standing up. "Jonathan…"  
  
"May I remind you, Miss Carnahan that this is a military installation and we have full jurisdiction over everything within the walls of the fort?" the Colonel told her.  
  
"He's right, Evy," said Jonathan.  
  
The Americans pulled Rick to his feet. He offered no resistance.  
  
"What are you doing?" demanded Evelyn.  
  
"This man is wanted for deserting the United States Army and killing an officer," one of the men told her.  
  
"No! That's impossible!" cried Evelyn. The officer held out a folded piece of paper. She took it and crumpled it. "No!"  
  
Jonathan took it from her, smoothed it out and began to read.  
  
"Benjamin Reese, you are under arrest," the other was saying to Rick.  
  
Evelyn was horrified. "No, no. This is all a mistake. That's not even his name. You have the wrong man. This is Rick O'Connell…" She tried to push the officer away from Rick and was blocked by the other officer. "Rick, why don't you tell them they've got the wrong man?"  
  
Jonathan stepped up and pulled her back. "Evy…" he said.  
  
"Ma'am, I don't know what this man has told you. I wouldn't be surprised at anything he's done. He's a coward and a liar and a murderer and we're taking him in." Colonel Matthews held open the door and the officers ushered Rick out.  
  
Evelyn tried to follow but Jonathan held her back. She elbowed him and broke free. She ran to Rick and threw her arms around him. "No! Rick…tell them they've got the wrong man," she insisted. "Why don't you tell them?"  
  
Rick couldn't bring himself to look at her. "Evelyn… I'm sorry," he said. She was too stunned by his words to fight Jonathan as he pulled her away from him. The officers took Rick out the door, Colonel Matthews hesitated. "I'm sorry. I had no choice." He shut the door behind him.  
  
Jonathan tried to hold Evelyn up as she crumpled to the floor in a dead faint. All he could do was break her fall. 


	3. The Darkness Before the Dawn

The Darkness Before the Dawn  
  
  
  
It had been a long night. Evelyn awoke from her swoon after only a few minutes and immediately locked herself in her bedroom. Jonathan made her promise through the door to stay home and let him sort things out. He operated on the shady side of things and had quite a few contacts. He was sure he could get some answers by morning.  
  
That proved to be a more difficult task than he had hoped. O'Connell/Reese had been good at covering his tracks. Jonathan found several people who knew the man as O'Connell. As Jonathan had expected, O'Connell had led a life of some intrigue, traveling all over Europe and North Africa and managing to stir up no little trouble along the way. Nothing that he could be convicted of, or not pay off with his new fortune, and nothing more violent than a couple of bar fights. The snag was that there was no record of the man prior to 1918. None of Jonathan's contacts remembered anyone named Benjamin Reese. The arrest warrant stated that in 1918, as an infantry man in the United States Army, Benjamin Reese had been suspected of stealing from prisoners of war and from the dead of both sides. When confronted by his commanding officer, a scuffle broke out and Reese had shot the officer and fellow infantry man. The officer had died. Reese disappeared. It all looked very suspicious and Jonathan was frustrated. As a poker player, he was confident in his ability to assess people and he just didn't feel that the man he knew as O'Connell could have committed those crimes. He went back to Evelyn's quarters just as the sun was rising. She was already gone.  
  
Rick lay on his back on the cold metal shelf that served as his bed and watched the stars fade into day through the tiny barred window of his cell. The detention cells of the British Fort were much nicer accommodations than Cairo prison had been. Still, did he really deserve anything nice? What had he been thinking to get involved with a nice girl like Evelyn? He knew who he was and what he was and now he had the crime of hurting Evelyn to add to his list. Did he really think that anything good would happen? That he could really just walk away and not have his past catch up with him? He had been told he was worthless by any number of people. Why didn't he just accept that fact instead of always trying to pull himself up and being continually knocked back down? He would surely hang for this, and this time there would be no beautiful Evelyn to have him cut free.  
  
"Reese… Reese." The guard rattled his keys.  
  
He wasn't used to answering to that name. "What," Rick replied, still gazing out the window.  
  
"You have a visitor."  
  
"I don't want a visitor." Especially not a particular visitor…  
  
"Well, you've got one," said Evelyn's voice. "Like it or not."  
  
Rick closed his eyes. She was the last person he wanted to see right now. He had hoped she would be too angry to come.  
  
Evelyn walked up to the bars of the cell. "Who are you?" she demanded.  
  
"It's complicated," he said, not looking at her.  
  
"I've got plenty of time," she said.  
  
"Look, Evelyn…" he began.  
  
"You don't call me Evelyn, Evelyn snapped. "Not until I know what your name is: Rick or Benjamin?"  
  
"That depends on who's asking," was his answer.  
  
"Me," she said. Her voice was beginning to break and she struggled to control it. "Me. I'm asking. Look at me. Tell me who you are."  
  
She was so close to the bars of his cell that he could smell her hair. He couldn't bear to look at her and stared more pointedly out the window. "It doesn't matter," he said.  
  
Evelyn suddenly thought that the reason for his reluctance to talk might be the guard. She turned to him and commanded, "Leave us."  
  
Rick didn't want the chance of a more intimate conversation. "No," he told the guard. "Please take her out."  
  
The guard reached to take Evelyn by the elbow. She shrugged him off. "Don't you touch me! I have some things to say to this man and I will say them. Leave us at once."  
  
"I'll be right outside if you need me," the guard said and he left, the metal door clanging shut behind him.  
  
Evelyn no longer tried to hold back her emotions. Tears began to spill down her face as she gripped the bars and said, "Tell me what is going on, Rick. Please tell me you haven't been lying to me all of this time, please!"  
  
"All of this time?" he echoed. "We've barely known each other a month."  
  
"I've know you longer than that," she said. "I can feel it…"  
  
He could feel it too; he had known her a long time but there was no hope, no point in admitting it. "I've done a lot of things that I'm not proud of…" he began. "I'm not a good person…"  
  
"Yes, you are…" Evelyn insisted.  
  
"No, I'm not."  
  
"You are! You are a good person. You saved my life, you fought the creature and all of those… those things. You saved the world, Rick. And you saved me." She stretched her hand out toward him. "Please, anything you may have done we can straighten out. We can get lawyers, we can..."  
  
"No," he told her. "There is no "we", Evelyn."  
  
"Yes, there is and I want to help, Rick. They are going to hang you for something I don't believe you did!" she protested.  
  
"You can't help me," he said. "Please, Evelyn. All you can do is just leave and forget about me."  
  
"I can't do that," Evelyn said. "I love you."  
  
God, she had to go and say it. The very words he longed to hear from her last night tore a hole in heart this morning. "Don't," he said. "It will only make it worse for both of us."  
  
"How can things get any worse than this?" She sank to the floor, crying and hugging the bars of his cell. "Tell me that you don't love me and I'll go away. Tell me you don't love me."  
  
Rick went to her and pulled her chin up to look at him. "I love you, Evelyn. That's why you have to leave. It will be worse if you stay around to watch and find out all of the things I've done," he told her as he knelt on the floor beside her. "You think I'm some kind of hero or something and I don't want you to know what I really am. Please, Evelyn, let's say good bye now and leave it with you being the only one who thinks good of me." He leaned forward and kissed her. She reached through the bars to grip him closer but he took her hands in his and bowed his head over them so she wouldn't see the tears that threatened to spill from his own eyes. "Please, Evelyn. Go now," he said. He kissed her hands then pushed her away and stood, turned his back and walked to the tiny window.  
  
Evelyn also stood. "I will leave for now, but I am going to do whatever I can to get you out of this. I don't care what the truth is. What ever you did in the past can't change what you did since I've known you. You are a good man, and I'm not going to stand by and watch them hang you."  
  
Rick pressed his forehead against the bars of the window. Why can't she just go away? How many more people have to get involved and be ruined because of him?  
  
Evelyn banged on the door and called out, "Guard, I wish to leave now." The guard opened the door for her and she stepped out. There was Jonathan, just coming in. She faced him defiantly, and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.  
  
Jonathan didn't bother confronting his sister. "Why did you let her in to see him?" He asked the officer at the desk.  
  
"She's your sister, Carnahan. Has anyone ever successfully said "no" to her?" asked the officer.  
  
"In recent memory, only one," reflected Jonathan. "And he's in that cell," he added silently to himself.  
  
"Did you find anything out?" Evelyn asked.  
  
"Only more questions than answers," Jonathan told her. "I came here to speak to Colonel Matthews. Is he in?" he asked the officer at the desk.  
  
"He is," replied the officer. "I'll see if he will speak to you." The officer picked up the telephone and dialed.  
  
"I'm going with you," Evelyn told Jonathan.  
  
"Evy, please. This is kind of a man to man thing…" he half heartedly argued.  
  
"You may go in now," said the officer.  
  
Jonathan entered the Colonel's office, followed by Evelyn. 


	4. Ferreting out Some Answers

Ferreting out Some Answers  
  
  
  
Inside Colonel Matthew's office Evelyn and Jonathan found an unexpected ally. Matthews didn't believe Rick was guilty either.  
  
"There isn't much I can do "There isn't much time," said Matthews. "He's scheduled to be transported to the States in three days. Has he told you anything at all?"  
  
"No. Just that he's done some things he isn't proud of," said Evelyn.  
  
"Did he tell you he didn't do this?" asked Matthews.  
  
"I'm sure he didn't…" asserted Evelyn.  
  
"But did he tell you that?"  
  
"I didn't ask him," she said. "I didn't have to."  
  
"Well, the American military judges aren't going to be so easily convinced. They have evidence and a witness," Matthews told her.  
  
"A witness who's lying…" insisted Evelyn.  
  
"Who is the witness?" asked Jonathan.  
  
The Colonel sighed. "I don't know. The Americans aren't interested in helping; they're convinced he's guilty. I tried to talk to him myself, but the man has a clouded past and he wants to keep it that way."  
  
"Then we'll just have to dig for answers ourselves," said Evelyn.  
  
"Are you sure you'll like what you find?" Matthews asked her.  
  
Evelyn met his eyes with a steady gaze. "Whatever happened in the past is past, Colonel. The present is all I care about. People can change."  
  
"Sometimes the change comes too late…" he warned her.  
  
"It's not too late until… well. It's not too late yet," said Jonathan. "We have three days. Let's make good use of them. O'Connell said he was a Legionnaire… We should check with the French Embassy to see what they can tell us."  
  
"I have a friend there. I'll make a call," Matthews said.  
  
"Jonathan, didn't you date a woman from the American Consulate?" Evelyn asked.  
  
"Well, that was a long time ago and..."  
  
"And nothing. We are going to see her at once," she said. "Thank you, Colonel Matthews, for everything. We'll be in touch."  
  
"Good luck," he told them.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Jonathan knew Lana wouldn't be glad to see him. He was actually surprised that she deigned to speak to him at all, but with Evelyn's insistence, she did. What they found was interesting, though vague. The office only had records of American's comings and goings within Egypt. In 1908, a Richard Evan O'Connell had entered the country as a boy of ten, with his father, Reese Edward O'Connell. The elder O'Connell was employed sporadically as a carpenter/bricklayer but spent much of his time in and out of jail for public drinking and petty theft. The younger O'Connell seemed likely to follow in his father's footsteps. In 1910, Reese O'Connell was killed in a knife fight and the boy was placed in Cairo Orphanage until family could be found to take him in. Evidently no family existed and Richard O'Connell remained in the orphanage until 1913 when he left on an errand and never returned.  
  
"This has got to be him!" exclaimed Evelyn.  
  
"I don't know, Evy. Even if it is, what good does this information do?" Jonathan said.  
  
"It gives us a place to start," she said. "Let's go back to the fort and see what the Colonel's turned up."  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Matthews was impressed with Evelyn's detective work, but, like Jonathan, wondered what good it would do. His contact at the French Embassy had provided similar ambiguous answers.  
  
"In 1921, a Richard O'Connell joined the French Foreign Legion. He served for just over two years in North Africa until a disastrous expedition in Libya and Egypt wiped out his entire regimen. O'Connell applied for, and was granted and early release." The Colonel handed the notes over to Jonathan and Evelyn.  
  
"Just Richard, no Evan…" mused Jonathan.  
  
"That doesn't mean anything," said Evelyn.  
  
"She's right," said Matthews. "The FFL is not always particular about its recruit's identities. It's a good place to hide… If you've got something to hide."  
  
"Even if," said Jonathan. "Even if all of this is him, it still doesn't do anything to get him out of this mess. There's a big whole in the story from 1913 to 1921. Anything could have happened in those eight years. We're no further along than we were last night."  
  
"But we're about to get there," Evelyn said. "I want to talk to him again," she told Matthews.  
  
"Let me, this time, Evy." Jonathan said. "We are men of similar character. I may have the advantage here."  
  
Occasionally, her brother's dalliances on the darker side of life proved helpful. This just may be one of them, she thought. "Go ahead," she told him, and settled down to wait in the Colonel's office. 


	5. Jonathan's Turn

"So when are you going to stop this nonsense and say what's really going on?" Jonathan asked the back of the form lying on the metal cot.  
  
"What part of "no visitors" is so hard to understand around here?" asked the form.  
  
"We're only trying to help," said Jonathan.  
  
"I told your sister. I don't want any help."  
  
"So you're just going to let them hang you for something you didn't do?"  
  
Rick sighed. "What makes you so sure I didn't do it?"  
  
"I'm not," Jonathan said. "But if you did, I'm sure there is a good explanation. I spent a week with you under horrible conditions surrounded by horrible people and things. I never once saw you do anything less than honorable. Hell, man. If I thought you weren't decent do you think I'd let you marry my sister?" Jonathan noticed Rick stiffen at the mention of Evy. "This is tearing her apart, you know."  
  
"She'll get over it," Rick said.  
  
"Evy doesn't "get over" anything," Jonathan said. "You know her well enough by now to know that. She'll spend the rest of her life trying to figure out what she did wrong."  
  
"The only thing she did wrong was trust me," Rick told him.  
  
"And what makes you so untrustworthy?"  
  
"Nice try, Jonathan. Not going to work."  
  
"Alright, then," said Jonathan. "I'll just have to try something else. We've done a little searching today. Found out a few things, too. Want to know what?" Rick didn't respond. "I'll tell you. We found out that a little boy named Richard O'Connell came to Egypt with his dad in 1908. The dad tried working legitimate jobs and illegitimate ones, not terribly successful at either pursuit. He was killed in 1910, the boy went to an orphanage, then ran away in 1913. Any of this sound familiar?" Still no response. "The O'Connell name pops up again, but not until 1923 when a man by that name signs up with the French Foreign Legion. After 2 unspectacular years he drops out of that, following in his father's footsteps to become an unremarkable thief with a bit of a reputation as a lady's man and a tendency to get into fights in disreputable bars."  
  
"You think you're pretty clever, don't you?" asked Rick.  
  
"With a little help from my sister, yes," he replied. "We're just now trying to patch together those missing years. What happened in the Army, Rick?" Silence again. "Why don't you help yourself? Who are you trying to protect? That's it, isn't it? You're covering for someone, aren't you? Is it worth your life?"  
  
"It's worth a life," Rick said softly.  
  
"Does it have to be yours?" asked Jonathan.  
  
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," replied Rick.  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Now, not so much. But there really isn't anything anyone can do about now, so why don't you and your sister just go away and leave it alone?"  
  
  
  
"I told you mate, I can't do that. You saved my life, you saved my sister's, hell, you saved the whole bloody world from that creature… Now it's time someone saved you," Jonathan told him.  
  
"Someone already did," Rick said. "I am not going to sacrifice him for me."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I can't tell you."  
  
"I owe you, Rick. Tell me. Then, if you still insist, I won't tell anyone else. You owe yourself. Even if you can't get out of this, don't you want one person to know the truth about you?"  
  
"One person already does. You can't tell anyone because he'll deny it."  
  
"Then you've got no reason to keep silent," said Jonathan. He sat on the floor and watched Rick.  
  
Rick stood, walked over to Jonathan and took a seat on the stone floor next to him. He started to talk. 


	6. The Truth

The Truth  
  
  
  
Jonathan passed his silver flask through the bars and Rick took a big swig of whiskey. What the hell was he doing? He was about to give up a secret that he had sworn to carry to the grave. Maybe it was the proximity of that grave that was tempting him to talk… No. He had faced death many times before and had never dreamed of telling anyone. Was it that he finally had a friend? Two friends and a chance at a future? He never had that before. Did that justify what he was about to do? It was Evelyn. He wanted her to know the truth. He didn't want to leave her wondering.  
  
Jonathan took back his flask and waited patiently. Confession wasn't easy. God knows he had never been able to do it.  
  
"Alright," said Rick. "The kid in the orphanage was me. My Dad was having a hard time of it back home."  
  
"What about your mother?" asked Jonathan.  
  
"Dead," replied Rick. "I was a difficult delivery; big baby. One minute my Dad had it all: a wife and a kid, and then the next minute he just had the kid. He was always a dreamer, always looking for some treasure or something so he wouldn't really have to work. He tried looking for gold in the hills around the Carolinas…"  
  
"I didn't think there was gold there…" said Jonathan.  
  
"There wasn't. At least not where my Dad looked. He ended up doing a lot of drinking and a few odd jobs here and there, but that wasn't the life he wanted. He tried moving us to New York, but that didn't work out either. We both had to resort to stealing to get by. So he dragged me across the ocean to Egypt so he could find his big fortune by digging in the sand. "Just as easy as pulling the gold out of the hills in California," he said. Dad never was good at research. Of course, it didn't work out. He couldn't get hired onto any expeditions because he had no experience and a kid. I did a lot more stealing and he did a lot more drinking until he got killed in a fight and I got sent to the orphanage in Cairo."  
  
"Not a nice place," said Jonathan. "Evy almost got sent there when our parents died. She was fifteen and I was twenty five. I convinced them to let me become her guardian."  
  
Rick nodded. "Good man," he said. "I would hate to think she had spent any time in there. It was three years for me. I snuck out and got a job as a porter on a ship when I was fifteen. I was tall, so I looked older. I went back to the States. I was an American, that was where I belonged, I thought. Just like my Dad, I thought I could start over. Just like my Dad, I was wrong. I worked on the docks in Boston for a while, the money was awful and I spent a lot of time gambling and stealing and drinking and getting into trouble. I had to move from city to city to stay away from the police. When the war started, that was my big chance to get out. It was all glamorous, then, you know. The uniform, be a hero, all that crap; we kids really bought into it. I couldn't use my real name because I was wanted, so I made one up."  
  
"Reese, for your Dad…" said Jonathan.  
  
"Yeah," said Rick. "And I picked Benjamin because of a dog we used to have…" He drifted off for a moment. He had never told that to anyone.  
  
"Go on," prompted Jonathan.  
  
"Anything left in that flask?" Rick asked. The story didn't get any better.  
  
"Sure, take the rest." Jonathan passed it back and Rick took another drink.  
  
"I had a new life. I had a new name, I was a soldier. I was honorable, respectable. They told me when to get up, when to eat, God, even how to walk. I loved it.  
  
Until we shipped out. There was nothing honorable about what we did in that war." Rick paused again and took another drink. "I had a buddy, we went through training together. His name was Arlen Holbrook. He was my age, but as different as anyone could be. He came from a good family. He went to college, he went to church. He was married to a nice girl and they just had a baby. I had decided that he would be my model. I finally had an example of a good person."  
  
"There were a lot of rotten things going on in our troop. There was plenty of temptation. Arlen and I were together once in a burnt-out house and there was plenty of silver and stuff to take, but Arlen wouldn't do it, so I didn't either. We were the only ones. Our Sergeant, Larson, didn't let anything like morals stop him. He took plenty of stuff. I think Arlen and me not taking anything kind of ticked him off, the bastard. He knew, somehow he knew how I used to be and he was pissed off that I wouldn't do it anymore. He thought I thought I was better than him. Hell, I guess I was. He was always trying to catch me doing something wrong, but he couldn't do it."  
  
"This went on for months. I was pretty proud that I hadn't taken anything. Word got out to the higher ups about our troop. Some prisoners had said we were stealing from them. Inspectors came. Larson, I guess it was Larson, had a bunch of stuff that he needed to hide, and he hid it in my rucksack and bunk and wasn't surprised at all when they found it, knowing my background and all, he told them. The military police were looking for me; I couldn't go back to the base. I was enraged with Larson and went looking for him. I found him at the hospital's morgue tent, going through the pockets of the dead guys. I pulled my gun on him and told him to stop, that I was turning him in. He tried to talk me out of it, said I didn't have the guts and who would believe me anyway? He was the son of a General. Somehow, Arlen had found out what was going on and he came looking for me to make sure I didn't do anything stupid. When he busted in the room, Larson shot at him, hitting him in the shoulder. Arlen didn't know who he was and fired back. He killed him."  
  
"Gimme that flask," said Jonathan. He wanted another drink after all.  
  
"We had to act fast and we didn't know what to do. No one would believe Larson was a thief; he was a General's son. Arlen had a wife and a kid and he had just saved my life. I had nothing to loose but a fake name. I made Arlen promise to say it was me that shot Larson. He didn't want to do it, but I made him. It was the only thing that made sense to do. I could just walk away, use my real name and start over again. I didn't plan to go back to the States ever, I would go to Egypt and make a living there. Everything would work out for the best for everyone. Things did sort of work out. Until now."  
  
"Until now," echoed Jonathan. "Have you heard anything from Arlen since?"  
  
"No," said Rick. "He doesn't even know my real name."  
  
"What happened to him?"  
  
"I don't know. I hope he made it back home and is living with his wife and kid. That was the plan."  
  
"Damn," said Jonathan.  
  
"Yep," said Rick.  
  
"We have to find this Arlen…"  
  
"No, I told you. He has a wife and a kid. He has a life," Rick told him.  
  
"You have a life too," said Jonathan. "We can get a lawyer and straighten this thing out. Someone else has to know Larson was a crook, you said the whole troop was in on it."  
  
"Right," said Rick. "We'll contact everyone from my troop and have them confess to stealing from the dead so they can all go to jail and I can get out. That sounds like a plan."  
  
"There has to be something we can do," Jonathan insisted.  
  
"Well, I'm fresh out of ideas," Rick sighed and turned to face Jonathan. "Look, thanks, "he said. "You were right. I'm kind of glad I got to tell someone."  
  
Jonathan reached through the bars and put his hand on Rick's shoulder. "We'll find a way to get you out of this, I promise."  
  
"Don't make promises you can't keep," said Rick. 


	7. Matthews Gets Involved

Jonathan left Rick and returned to Matthew's office where he told the story to Evelyn and the Colonel.  
  
Evelyn stood and stepped toward the door. "I want to go see him," she said.  
  
"No," said the Colonel. "It's after eight. Visiting hours are over."  
  
"After eight!" she said, surprised. "We still have so much to do. We have to see Lana and have her look up Arlen and other members of Rick's troop for us. We have to find a lawyer that handles American military cases. We have to…"  
  
"Have some dinner, go home and get some rest," Jonathan finished. "It's late, Evy. There is nothing more we can do tonight."  
  
"He's right," said Matthews. "First thing in the morning, I will look into finding a lawyer for you."  
  
Jonathan escorted Evelyn out. He practically had to drag her past the door leading to the cells.  
  
  
  
Alone in his office, Matthews was contemplative. He had known General Edward Larson fairly well. He had met Daniel Larson a couple of times. The young man had an arrogant quality that Matthews hadn't liked, but that wasn't uncommon among young wealthy men who had power handed to them. Didn't mean that he would do anything untoward. He decided it was time for him to talk to Reese/O'Connell again.  
  
Rick pushed his meal around on his plate. If he did, somehow, get out of this mess, he certainly would never live in England. The food was awful.  
  
"Your friends certainly seem to believe in you."  
  
Rick looked up at the Colonel.  
  
"Yeah, well. Everyone believes in something," he said.  
  
"It's that attitude that's going to cinch that noose," Matthews said.  
  
"But it was luck that put it there in the first place," Rick told him. He held out the metal plate. "I thought condemned men were supposed to get better meals."  
  
"You're not condemned yet. Is this story you told about Daniel Larson true?" he asked bluntly.  
  
"It's true," Rick said.  
  
"Why didn't you say anything before?"  
  
"Who would believe it?" asked Rick. "There's no proof. Only my word against the son of the mighty General Edward Larson."  
  
"And the word of your friend Holbrook," the Colonel pointed out.  
  
"I want him left out of it," Rick said.  
  
"Too late."  
  
"Too late is right. I'm being shipped out day after tomorrow, remember?" Rick left his plate on the floor and went to lie on his cot.  
  
"Not necessarily. I have the authority to delay your release."  
  
Rick didn't look at him. He pretended to get comfortable. "Are you going to use it?" he asked.  
  
"Perhaps," the Colonel said. "You don't make it easy for someone to help you."  
  
Rick laughed. "I guess I'm just not used to anybody ever wanting to."  
  
"If you'd start behaving as if you were worth it, perhaps more of them would."  
  
"Perhaps," said Rick.  
  
"Let me ask you this," said the Colonel. "Do you believe you're worth it?"  
  
Rick found himself unable to come up with a smart-assed answer to that. He was silent.  
  
"You did some incredible things these past few weeks, a lot of people are indebted to you for their lives and property. For that, I am willing to put my job on the line and delay your release until we can get to the bottom of this situation."  
  
"Thank you," said Rick.  
  
"Are you worth it?" the Colonel asked again. Rick remained silent. "If you don't believe it, son, no one else will." He turned and went toward the door, pausing for an answer that never came. He opened the door and walked out.  
  
Rick stared past the bars of his window at the stars and tried to put the question out of his mind.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
"Because the window of that cell looks out onto the courtyard where there are four guards, that's why," Jonathan said.  
  
Evelyn pouted. "But he hasn't had a decent meal all day." She felt guilty sitting in the restaurant having a good meal when Rick was locked in that cell.  
  
"And you want to talk to him," Jonathan added. "You can do that tomorrow, Evy. You can bring him breakfast while I go talk to Lana…"  
  
"Lana hates you," Evelyn said. "I have to go with you or she'll give you nothing. Why do so many women hate you, Jonathan?"  
  
"Hard to say, really," he answered. "Most women are terribly difficult to please."  
  
"And you work so hard to please them…"  
  
"You have no idea," Jonathan said. "You've hardly touched your food."  
  
"I'm not hungry," she said. She put her fork down.  
  
Jonathan put it back in her hand. "We are going to have another long day tomorrow, you need to eat so you can keep up."  
  
Evelyn smiled. She liked it when Jonathan tried to take care of her. Sometimes, he wasn't bad at it. He had managed pretty well after their parents had died, fought hard in the courts to get declared her guardian so that she wouldn't have to go to that horrible orphanage—where Rick had to go. How awful it must have been.  
  
"Look, now," He read her face. "You're not thinking good thoughts, Evy. You have to think good thoughts. Things are going to work out, I promise. Now finish your meal so we can go to bed. We'll want to be up early tomorrow."  
  
  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Lana was not happy to see Jonathan a second time. She recalled screaming at him that she never wanted to see him again, and now it was two times in as many days. His sister seemed like a good sort, though, so she got the information they asked for. It wasn't good.  
  
Arlen Holbrook had been killed in France, late September of 1918. His body had been shipped back to Connecticut for burial. 


	8. A New Day

Evelyn had insisted that Lana check for the possibility of multiple Arlen Holbrooks, but there were none. The news was devastating. Now there was no one left alive to corroborate Rick's story. Still, she was certain that somehow, this whole bloody thing would work out. It had to.  
  
Jonathan offered to go with her to talk to Rick, but she wanted to go alone. He went, instead to talk to Colonel Matthews.  
  
Rick hadn't got much sleep that night. He was destroying the life of a friend just to save himself and the Colonel wanted to know if he was worth it? Arlen had been one of the only people who believed that Rick was capable of doing anything good and look how he was repaying him for that. And why?  
  
"Hello," came a voice. Evelyn. That was why. He hadn't even heard the guard open the door. She looked amazing.  
  
"Did you sleep well?" she asked.  
  
"Not too bad," he lied.  
  
"Me either," she said. "I brought you some sweet rolls." She offered him a small basket. "They've been thoroughly checked for files or guns or anything dangerous, I'm afraid."  
  
"Thanks anyway," he said. Rick walked across the cell and took the basket from her. They had to turn it sideways to make it fit. He sat on the cot and began to munch. Something was wrong, he saw it in her face, but he wasn't going to ask. He knew he was the cause of her unhappiness and to have that confirmed aloud was more than he could bear at the moment.  
  
How was she going to tell him, she wondered. Maybe she wouldn't have to. Maybe at any moment, Jonathan and Colonel Matthews were going to rush in and say it had all been a mistake.  
  
"These are good, did you make them?" asked Rick.  
  
"Oh, goodness, no!" said Evelyn. "I can't cook at all. Well. Perhaps I could if I had a chance, but I've never really…"  
  
"It's ok," Rick said. "I can't cook either."  
  
"Well, then. It's a good thing we both have enough money to hire someone else to do it for us," she said.  
  
"Yes, good thing."  
  
"Rick, Arlen is dead," she blurted.  
  
"That's another good thing," he said.  
  
"How can you say that?"  
  
"Then he won't have to go to jail. It's over for him. It's over for me too."  
  
Evelyn stood next to the bars and began to cry. "Rick, please don't say that…"  
  
"Evelyn, it's alright." He went to her and held her hands through the bars. "It really is. I knew this might happen when I made the deal with Arlen. It was my choice. He saved my life; I saved his."  
  
  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
"Well, that complicates things a bit," said Colonel Matthews.  
  
"Yes," said Jonathan. "A bit."  
  
"I sent a telegram to General Larson last night," the Colonel said. He reached for the decanter on the bookshelf. "Nine in the morning. Too early for a drink?"  
  
"Not at all," said Jonathan.  
  
Matthews poured two glasses of scotch, handed one to Jonathan and sipped the other. "We used to be friends. I met his son Daniel a couple of times. Didn't like him."  
  
"Thank you for your help," Jonathan said.  
  
"Don't thank me yet," the Colonel warned. "I don't know what good that will do… I spoke to the American Lieutenants Weir and Hanson, but I haven't told them any of this. I don't think they would be very receptive. It's not up to them anyway, they are just following orders to collect Reese and bring him back for trial."  
  
"Tomorrow," pointed out Jonathan.  
  
"Not necessarily," said Matthews. "I have decided to "detain" O'Connell here at the fort for some unspecified charges. I don't have to tell the Americans why. That will give us a couple of weeks."  
  
"Then we'd better put them to good use. I have the names of some of the other men from O'Connell's troop… The ones that survived."  
  
"Good," said Matthews. "We should try and get in contact with them right away."  
  
  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
  
  
Jonathan and Colonel Matthews went to the detention area. At the sound of the door opening, Rick and Evelyn released each other. Matthews told Rick of his plans. Rick was somewhat skeptical, but went over the list of survivors, pointing out the men most likely to speak in his favor. Matthews left to send a few more telegrams.  
  
Jonathan pulled out a deck of cards. "Thought this would be a good way to pass the time," he said. Better than mauling my sister through iron bars, he thought to himself. They had been standing much to close when he and the Colonel had walked in.  
  
"Great," said Rick. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do."  
  
  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
The messenger left and Edward Larson, Rtd. US Army, closed the door; fingering the official telegram he had been given.  
  
"What's that, dear?" asked his wife.  
  
"Oh, just some old military nonsense," he replied. Larson limped into his office and sat heavily in his big desk chair. The leather was scarred on the back from Daniel spinning it too close to the desk as a child. Hard to keep the boy out of his office. Hard to keep the boy out of trouble. Even now that he'd been dead eight years. 


	9. Keeping it Quiet

Matthews didn't try to contact the other members of Reese/O'Connell's troop. He wanted to give Gen. Larson a chance to respond first. It was risky; Larson could make things very difficult if he wanted, but Matthews trusted him to do the right thing.  
  
The three-way poker game went very well for Jonathan. Evelyn was just no good at bluffing and Rick was distracted. The news that his friend Arlen was dead had upset him tremendously, but he refused to let it show. To counter the effect it had had, he focused on how beautiful Evelyn was, but that did nothing to help his poker game.  
  
"I beat you both with a pair of tens!" exclaimed Jonathan. "You two are pathetic. It figures I would win when we aren't playing for anything…"  
  
"I suggested strip poker," said Rick. "You wouldn't go for it."  
  
Evelyn quickly said, "Yes, well, I'm rather glad we didn't."  
  
"I'm not," Rick said, looking directly at her. She blushed and turned away.  
  
"I wonder what is keeping those telegrams," Evelyn said to change the subject.  
  
"It's only been a few hours," Jonathan pointed out.  
  
"And I not so sure any telegrams are coming," Rick said. "I told you, people don't want to go to jail for me. I don't want them to anyway."  
  
"It isn't right…" she protested.  
  
"Welcome the real world," Rick told her.  
  
"You know," she said, "not everyone does things that will only benefit themselves. Look at what your friend Arlen did for you, and what you did for him."  
  
"And look what happened to us both. He's dead and I'm soon to join him. He should have just let Larson kill me that night."  
  
"Then I'd be dead now too," Evelyn said.  
  
"No," Rick reasoned. "You would never have made it to Hamunaptra. The creature would never have been awakened."  
  
"We would never have met," she breathed.  
  
"No," Rick agreed.  
  
She met his eyes, "Then I would never have lived."  
  
"Oh, pleeese," said Jonathan. "I've got to get out of here." He stood.  
  
"Evelyn, don't say things like that," Rick said.  
  
"It's true," she protested. "Everything has changed since I met you… since I fell in love with you. I have never been more alive. Can't you see? Can't you say the same thing?" Evelyn reached through the bars to him.  
  
Rick moved out of her reach. "Not when I'm about to be dead."  
  
"Rick, don't say that. You don't know that. You can tell them who you really are."  
  
"And then what? Even if I am somehow not convicted for murdering Larson then they've got for entering under a false name and desertion," Rick told her. "So I go to prison anyway if I'm not hanged."  
  
"There's got to be something…"  
  
"There's nothing."  
  
Jonathan put an arm around Evelyn. "Come on now Evy…"  
  
"No," she cried. "I don't want to go."  
  
"Evelyn, it's true and you know it. I appreciate your help, and Jonathan's and Colonel Matthews, but I don't think there's anything anyone can do." Rick took another step away in his cell. "I accept it. I knew all along that this might happen some day. Let's not make it any harder than it already is by complicating it with love."  
  
"Is love really just a complication to you?" Evelyn was aghast.  
  
Rick knew he had hurt her, but it was want he wanted. He needed to push her away. "Yes," he said. "That's all it's ever been to me."  
  
"Then I am very sorry for you, Mr. O'Connell. Very sorry." Evelyn knocked hard on the door. "Guard! Guard, let me out at once!"  
  
Jonathan looked accusingly at Rick who refused to meet his eyes. Jonathan knew what Rick was trying to do and sympathized with him, and with his sister. He wished he could do something to help the both of them, but his first loyalty was to Evy. The guard had opened the door and she stormed out. Jonathan followed her.  
  
Rick noticed something shiny on the floor. It was Evelyn's locket, it must have gotten snagged on the bars when they had embraced earlier. He tried calling her but the guard had shut the door. She would be back, or at least Jonathan would. Or, he could give it to Matthews. It was close enough for him to reach and he picked it up. He'd just hold on to it for a while.  
  
He opened the locket to look at the tiny photos inside. A man and a woman who had a life together. They looked happy. Rick noticed his hand was shaking. Enough of this, he thought and snapped the locket shut, but he couldn't put it down or force his hand to stop shaking. He crossed to the bunk and sat down, clutching the heart-shaped locket in his fist. He felt something on his face and reached up to swat it away. He was angry when he realized it was a tear. No, I won't do this, he told himself. I won't. He tried to maintain control, closing his eyes, but images of Evelyn and Arlen and surprisingly enough, his father, overwhelmed him. He stuffed his face into his pillow so no one would hear him cry.  
  
  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
  
  
Jonathan escorted Evelyn out to his car. She fell apart as soon as they got into it, sobbing on his shoulder.  
  
"I'm going to go insane," she cried. "I can't bear this. Why is this happening? Why won't he let me love him?"  
  
"Well, Evy… think about it. This can't be easy for him either, you know. He does love you, I'm sure of it, but if this doesn't work out…"  
  
"It has to work out, Jonathan," she gasped. "It has to…"  
  
He didn't want to let her fool herself anymore than Rick did. He took her face in his hands and looked her in the eye. "Evy. This may not work out."  
  
"I…" she began to protest.  
  
"I hope to God it does, but it might not," he told her. "And if it doesn't a little distance between the two of you wouldn't be a bad thing."  
  
Evelyn said, "If it doesn't, all we have is this time, here and now. Shouldn't we make the best of it and be as close as we can?"  
  
"Maybe he thinks you aren't strong enough to handle that," Jonathan said. "Maybe he isn't strong enough to handle that. Just because he can fight a mummy doesn't mean he can handle finding love and losing it."  
  
"I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that either, Jonathan," she said. "But I'm not afraid to try."  
  
Jonathan pulled her close. "That's because you have me, old mum," he said. "That's because you have me."  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
  
  
That afternoon, a telegram arrived for Colonel Matthews. It was short and to the point.  
  
"I'll take care of this. Keep it quiet. Release O'Connell." 


	10. Leaving

Leaving  
  
  
  
"You're free to go."  
  
Rick had dozed off. He shook his head; he couldn't have heard that right. "What?" he said, rolling over.  
  
"You're a free man, O'Connell." Rick blinked at Colonel Matthews who was standing outside his cell. The door was open.  
  
"Says who?" Rick asked suspiciously.  
  
"Says the United States Army, by way of General Edward Larson," the Colonel replied.  
  
"You've got to be joking," Rick said.  
  
"I thought so too, at first," Matthews admitted. "A telegram from General Larson arrived about an hour ago. I checked the information with the consulate here. I don't know what he did or how he did it, but you are free to go. All charges are dismissed. On one condition…"  
  
"I knew there had to be a catch," Rick said.  
  
"That you never speak of this incident again, and never use the name Benjamin Reese again," finished Matthews.  
  
"That's it?" asked Rick.  
  
"That's it," said Matthews. "Here are the belongings you came in with." He handed Rick a small bundle. It contained his wallet, his watch and the engagement ring in its tiny box. "You can leave whenever you're ready."  
  
"What, no dinner?"  
  
"You feed yourself now," said the Colonel. "You are no longer a guest of the British Empire."  
  
Rick stood and took his things from Matthews. He was a bit stunned, he certainly didn't expect things to end this way. He looked around the tiny cell; there was nothing to collect—except Jonathan's playing cards. He picked up the deck and followed Matthews through the door into the outer office.  
  
Matthews shook his hand. "I'm glad things have worked out for you. You have some good people on your side."  
  
"Yeah, thanks," said Rick. He hesitated for a moment. "Um, could you give this to Jonathan Carnahan…" he handed Matthews the deck of cards. "And this…" he pulled Evelyn's locket out of his pocket, "to Evelyn."  
  
The Colonel did not reach for the objects. "You'll want to give those to them yourself," he said.  
  
"I won't be seeing them again," Rick told him. "Please." He held out the cards and the locket.  
  
"No," said Matthews. "I won't help you do this."  
  
"Fine," said Rick, stuffing them into his pocket again. "I'll just mail them." He turned and walked toward the door and freedom.  
  
"You're making a big mistake," warned the Colonel.  
  
"No, I'm avoiding one," Rick said as he closed the door behind him.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
"Will you hurry? It's nearly six and they won't let us in if we're late," Evelyn called over her shoulder to her brother. She was hurrying down the street toward the entrance to Colonel Matthew's office and the Fort's detention center.  
  
"Imm hrrryg, dnn wk so fssst…" Jonathan sputtered as he tried to catch up with her.  
  
Evelyn stopped in her tracks and snatched the greasy bag out of Jonathans hand as he passed her. "And stop eating the fish and chips," she scolded. "They are for Rick."  
  
"Well, I'm hungry too," he argued, licking the salt from his fingers. "What makes you think he'll like fish and chips anyway?"  
  
"He'll like it. He loves British food," said Evelyn.  
  
Jonathan passed her as she reached the door to the office, and opened it for her. Colonel Matthews met them just inside.  
  
"I'm so sorry we're almost late," Evelyn told him. "It's all Jonathan's fault…"  
  
"It is," agreed Jonathan. "All mine."  
  
Evelyn breezed past the Colonel toward the door the cells. Matthews stopped her and said, "He's gone."  
  
She stopped in her tracks and whirled. "What do you mean, "gone"?" she asked. Good Lord, the Americans took him!  
  
"He's been released," said the Colonel. "General Larson arranged it."  
  
"Released! That's wonderful!" exclaimed Jonathan. "Evy, that's wonderful!"  
  
Evelyn could hardly catch her breath to reply. This was a dream, a dream come true. "Yes, well, where is he?" she asked.  
  
"Gone," said Matthews. He wished he'd strangled O'Connell when he had the chance. How could any man walk out on this woman?  
  
"Gone?" This man was beginning to annoy her. "Gone where?" she asked.  
  
"He didn't say," Matthews said. "The orders to release him came about two hours ago. I did as I was asked and let him go. He left."  
  
"But, but where? He must have said where," Evelyn argued. "He must have. He wouldn't just leave… Jonathan?"  
  
"Perhaps he left a note or something?" Jonathan asked Matthews hopefully.  
  
Matthews shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. He didn't."  
  
"Oh. Oh, I see," said Evelyn. "Well." She offered the greasy bag to Jonathan. "I suppose you can have this after all."  
  
"Evy, I don't…"  
  
"Don't be silly, Jonathan," she told him. "There is no sense in throwing away perfectly good food." He refused to take the bag. "No? Then you, Colonel? Surely you'll have some fish and chips."  
  
"Thank you, no." he said.  
  
"Well, then," Evelyn said. "I'll just find someone on the street who will." She marched out of the front door, looking for someone who looked hungry.  
  
Jonathan looked at Matthews. "He said nothing?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing," confirmed Matthews.  
  
"Right, then. Thank you for all of your help," said Jonathan. He went out to look for Evelyn.  
  
He found her just outside. Hungry people weren't that difficult to come by in Cairo and she'd found some children to give the food to and was watching them eat. "Are you all right?" he asked her.  
  
"We should go home," she said. "Perhaps he's waiting for me there." That had to be it. "Why would he wait around here for two hours?"  
  
"Why indeed," said Jonathan. He doubted that O'Connell would be there. They would never see him again. He wasn't ready to tell that to Evelyn. "Well, then," he said. "Let's go see."  
  
She took his arm and they walked away together.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Rick studied the train schedule. He had taken several hundred pounds out of the bank; He had money. He could create a whole new life for himself—do anything he wanted, go anywhere he wanted. He stepped up to the ticket window. "Tangiers," he said.  
  
"One?" asked the clerk.  
  
"Yes. One," replied Rick. The train didn't leave until ten-thirty. He had over four hours to kill. There had to be a bar around here somewhere… one that served a decent meal. 


	11. Arriving Home

Arriving Home  
  
To appear casual, Evelyn sat at the table, reading the same line in one of her books over and over. Jonathan, who was never without a deck of cards, played solitaire. "Fancy a game of chess?" he asked his sister.  
  
"No, thank you," she said.  
  
It was getting late, nearly eleven. "Evy…" he began.  
  
"Reading," she admonished.  
  
Jonathan sighed and began to lay out the cards for another round of solitaire. How long was she going to keep this up? Rick wasn't coming back. Jonathan almost envied his freedom. Oh, to be young and rich and stupid. Hmmm. He had been, not that long ago. Now, he was just rich and stupid. How many times had he treated girls this way himself? None that had really loved him, he thought. Had any really loved him? Was he really that much of a cad? He had been called a cad, a drunkard and a stupid bastard; he supposed he was. And now, O'Connell was a stupid bastard too.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
O'Connell, the other stupid bastard sat waiting for train 217. He was going to have a good time in Tangier; he always did. Christo ought to be out of jail by now, how much time did a guy get for public nudity in Morocco? Rick chuckled to himself; he'd nearly been hanged for it in Egypt a few weeks ago. Let's see, public nudity got you 90 days in France, one month in Portugal and just a 200 Deut marc fine in Germany: those people knew how to have a good time.  
  
Ah, yes. Christo. I wonder if he still has that boat? No matter. We'll just buy a new one, Rick thought. Christo had been one of many friends that Rick had schemed with. They had planned to start a salvage/charter/smuggling company based in the Mediterranean, modern-day pirates if you will, but they had never been able to come up with enough money. That was no longer a problem.  
  
He didn't really need Christo to do it. He didn't really need anyone, actually. Money and freedom was all he had ever needed, and now he had both.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Lost again. Confounded game; he'd even cheated and he still lost. Jonathan rubbed his eyes and looked at his sister. Something was missing… "Evy," he exclaimed. "Where's your locket?" It held pictures of their mother and father. Their parents had given it to her when she was a child; she was always so upset when they went on digs without her, and her mother had said that as long as she wore it, they would be with her. She had never taken it off.  
  
Her hand rose to her neck to feel for it. "Oh," she said. "It's gone. I hadn't noticed."  
  
"I can help you look for it…" he offered.  
  
"No. If it's gone, it's gone," she said resignedly.  
  
"Evy, you love that locket…"  
  
"It's just a thing, Jonathan. One doesn't love a thing."  
  
"But…"  
  
"It's alright, Jonathan."  
  
"Are you sure?" he asked.  
  
"Positive," she said, not looking up from the page. 'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.'  
  
"I'll just look around for it a bit…" Jonathan said. Anything but another game of solitaire. He began to root around the room, looking under cushions and rugs.  
  
"Suit yourself," Evelyn replied. Back to the book: 'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.' Well of course it hasn't, she thought. They don't know where to look… Or maybe it was never really there in the first place.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
It was a five day trip to Tangier from Cairo. A first class ticket bought you a private cabin with a comfortable fold-out bed. The dining car had excellent food, the incessant desert scenery left something to be desired, but boredom was easily quenched with whiskey. Five days to Tangier from Cairo, with a stop along the way in Tripoli. A first class ticket allowed one to disembark for a few days, then continue the journey. The steam train's whistle blew and the wheels began to laboriously turn, a black cloud of smoke and soot billowed out behind dusting the wooden seats of the train platform, leaving Cairo and all within it behind.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.' Enough of this. Evelyn snapped the book shut. "I'm going to bed," she announced to the empty room. She stood and walked into the bedroom. Jonathan's legs were sticking out from under the bed.  
  
"The damn thing has to be somewhere…" he said.  
  
Evelyn took off her shoes and tossed them into the closet. She began unbuttoning the top buttons of her blouse. "It really doesn't matter, Jonathan," she said. "I can live without it."  
  
Jonathan crawled out from under the bed and looked at her. Evelyn had sat on the padded bench in front of her dressing stand and was taking down her hair, tossing the pins into the top drawer. He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked.  
  
"I'll be fine," she said, determined not to cry until she was alone. "I just really thought…"  
  
Jonathan leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "So did I," he said. "So did I."  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
"Oh my God," cried Evelyn. "Hide!" She stood up, her head hitting Jonathan under the chin, making him bite his tongue. He clamped his hand over his mouth and dove under the bed. "No, not under there!" Evelyn hissed.  
  
Jonathan climbed back out. "No, of course not, not under there," he said. Evelyn went toward the door to the main room. "Wait just a minute, why not under the bed?" Jonathan asked, suddenly suspicious. "I tell you that's exactly where I'll be: under the bed! You are a lady and I expect you to remain so until…"  
  
"Jonathan!" Evelyn snapped, horrified. "How dare you! I would never! If you hide under the bed, idiot, you'll be seen!" She pointed to the bed – the legs raised it eighteen inches.  
  
"Oh, oh! Of course," said Jonathan, "I knew that."  
  
There was another knock at the door. Evelyn again started toward it. "I'll just hide in here then," Jonathan said. "In the bedroom. Where you won't need to be…" he added pointedly.  
  
She scowled at him. "Of course not!" she said and took a step toward the door.  
  
"Wait!" Jonathan called. Evelyn froze. "Your hair."  
  
Her hands flew up to her hair, half of which was hanging down her back, the other half still pinned up. "Up or down?" she asked frantically.  
  
"Down, of course," said Jonathan. She pulled out the last of the pins and shook out her curls. Jonathan looked her over. Her hair was wild and tousled; much too suggestive. "No, up," he said.  
  
"No time, I'm going to the door," Evelyn said and turned again.  
  
"Wait," Jonathan called. "Your blouse… the buttons!"  
  
She looked down, four of them were undone and a good bit of skin was showing. She buttoned one.  
  
Jonathan crossed his arms. "Another," he commanded.  
  
Evelyn rolled her eyes and buttoned another button. There was another knock at the door. "Go, go…" said Jonathan.  
  
Evelyn turned and rushed to the door, unbuttoning the button she had just fastened, and then buttoning it up again. She paused, wiped her hands on her skirt, and opened the door.  
  
It was Rick. "Hi," he said.  
  
"Hi," said Evelyn.  
  
"I, um…" he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out her locket. "You left this… it fell off… I found it… here." He dangled it in front of her.  
  
"Thank you," she said. She turned around and held up her hair. "Can you put it on me, please?" she asked.  
  
He stared at the back of her neck. God, she had a beautiful neck. "Um, yeah. I can do that," he said. Easier said than done. Rick was almost afraid to touch her because he wouldn't want to stop. The tiny clasp felt awkward in his fingers and God, her hair smelled wonderful.  
  
Evelyn felt his breath on the back of her neck and his fingers brushing the small hairs there. She fought hard not to sway.  
  
Rick finally got the clasp fastened. "There," he said. She let her hair fall, he wasn't quick enough and it brushed his hands as he pulled them away. Electrifying.  
  
Evelyn turned to face him, her hand over her heart, touching the locket. "Thank you," she said.  
  
Rick pulled out the deck of cards. "And these, these are for Jonathan. They are Jonathan, I mean they belong to him. Here." He held out the cards.  
  
"Oh, well. You can just give them to him yourself," Evelyn said. "Tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"Tomorrows good," agreed Rick. He put the cards back in his pocket. The tiny velvet box was there. He clutched it in a sweaty palm.  
  
God, don't send him away, thought Jonathan, listening from the other room. Get him now, girl!  
  
"Fine then," Evelyn said. "So, you'll be back tomorrow?"  
  
Jonathan rolled his eyes and banged his head against the wall.  
  
"What was that noise?" asked Rick.  
  
"The cat," lied Evelyn. In about five minutes it's going to be my dead brother, she thought.  
  
"Oh, the white cat," said Rick.  
  
"Yes," said Evelyn.  
  
"I liked that cat," he lied.  
  
"Me too," said Evelyn.  
  
Jonathan banged his head again.  
  
"What's he doing?" asked Rick, trying to look around her.  
  
"I have no idea," said Evelyn, standing firm. "So, tomorrow?"  
  
"Tomorrow," agreed Rick. He backed up out the door. He was clutching the tiny box so hard he was afraid he would break it. "Unless…" he began.  
  
Evelyn paused. "Unless?"  
  
Jonathan perked up. Do it, man, he thought.  
  
Do it, man, Rick told himself. He got down on one knee. Evelyn was sure she was going to faint. "Evelyn…" he began. "I know that I've been a complete jerk these past few days…  
  
Good start, thought Jonathan. What an idiot.  
  
"No you haven't," said Evelyn.  
  
"Yes, yes I have," Rick said. "And I'm sorry. I just didn't think that things would work out and I didn't want… You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Evelyn. I know that I'm not the kind of guy that gets a girl like you…"  
  
Ah, the pity ploy, thought Jonathan. Tried that one myself a few times; never worked. The boy is an amateur.  
  
"…but I promise that I will try my best to make things good for us, to make you happy." Rick pulled the box out of his pocket and opened it. "I love you, Evelyn Carnahan… will you marry me?"  
  
Evelyn gasped and put her hands over her mouth. "Oh, my God," she breathed.  
  
"Say 'yes'", whispered Jonathan.  
  
"Yes," said Evelyn. She held out her left hand. Rick took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto her finger. It wasn't easy with them both shaking. Rick stood, took her in his arms and kissed her.  
  
Jonathan did a silent dance of joy and waited for Evelyn to call him out. He waited too long. It was too quiet out there. He coughed.  
  
Rick and Evelyn parted. "That wasn't the cat," Rick said.  
  
Jonathan came out of the bedroom. "Let me be the first to congratulate you both," he said. He shook Rick's hand; them embraced his sister, and then embraced Rick. "When is the big day?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know," laughed Rick. "We just kinda found out it's happening…" He looked at Evelyn, she was radiant. "As soon as possible," he said and pulled her in for another kiss.  
  
Jonathan coughed again. "Save some of that for the wedding night, old man," he cautioned.  
  
"Oh, there's plenty to go around," Rick said with a grin.  
  
"She is my sister!" Jonathan asserted.  
  
"And she is my wife…" said Rick.  
  
"Wife…" said Evelyn with a dreamy smile.  
  
Jonathan stepped between them. "Yes, well, not yet she isn't and it's quite late and I think it's quite time we all got to bed. To sleep. In our own respective beds. In our own respective homes…"  
  
Rick knew Jonathan was right. If he stayed much longer his behavior would not be respectable for long. "I will see you in the morning," he told Evelyn He took her hand with the ring on it and kissed it.  
  
"Goodnight," she said staring up into his dark blue eyes.  
  
"Goodnight," he said, not releasing her hand.  
  
Jonathan removed Evelyn's hand from Rick's. "Pleeease," he said. "Let's go, old man. I'll buy you a drink." He wanted to keep an eye on Rick—he wasn't going to skip town on Jonathan's watch. He ushered Rick out the door. "Goodnight, baby sister," he told Evelyn with a wink.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Two weeks later, an envelope with two letters arrived at the fort addressed to Richard O'Connell. The first was from General Edward Larson. It apologized for his son's behavior and all of the trouble he had caused. In return for not making any embarrassing public accusations, the General had granted Rick a full pardon for using a false identity and deserting the US Army.  
  
The second letter was addressed to Benjamin Reese. It was from Arlen Holbrook. Arlen had been mortally wounded in battle three months after Rick left. He was hospitalized for nearly a week before he died and had written letters to his friends and family.  
  
The letter read:  
  
My dear friend Benjamin,  
  
You won the bet. You always said my big head made a good target and I'd get shot first. I hate it when you are right, but the joke is really on you because you'll have to meet me upstairs to collect your fifty bucks. I have no idea where to send this letter and I'm not putting money in it to just sit on a shelf and wait for you.  
  
  
  
I did as you asked, I told them you were the one who shot Larson. They believed me and I've felt like a real bastard ever since. I only kept my mouth shut because I know they haven't found you. I planned to speak up with the truth if they ever did. Since I won't be here, I wrote this letter in case they do. By the time you read this, General Larson will be reading a letter of his own telling him what his son did. I am not going to leave this world with out trying to set this thing straight.  
  
  
  
You were a good friend, Benjamin. I'm glad to have had the chance to know you. Don't let this go to your head because it's not that much smaller than mine, but you're a good man. Someday, you'll realize that for yourself. Try not to wait too long, buddy.  
  
Arlen Holbrook  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Rick folded the letter and put it in his coat pocket. Maybe Arlen was right. Evelyn and Jonathan both seemed to think so. He had the rest of his life to do what he could to live up to their expectations. And his own. Today, he had a wedding to attend. 


	12. A Blatant Act of Self Promotion

Thanks for reading Stormy Beginnings. I have always loved putting my characters in to grave situations and then getting them out… Rick had to have had an interesting past. Please feel free to write me with comments and suggestions at MsJTDonovan@aol.com  
  
If you liked this story, try my others:  
  
Evelyn Gets Her Comeuppance: A naughty scene that should have been in TM.  
  
Two Weeks: Little Alex doesn't have to go all the way to Egypt to find trouble.  
  
  
  
Thanks again,  
  
Jackie 


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